An Appreciation for Scrubs
by FlamingAshes
Summary: His job was to comfort her, to get her through this tough time. But anything could happen in a hospital cafeteria. Everlark one-shot.


**You guys didn't think that TMI was my only fandom, did you? I'm obsessed with The Hunger Games and this idea came to me a couple months back, but it took me a while to actually pursue the idea. So here it is! Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

 **Summary: His job was to comfort her, to get her through this tough time. But anything could happen in a hospital cafeteria. Everlark one-shot.**

" _Just a couple more days and then you'll be finished,_ " Thought Peeta as he rushed down the halls. " _Then you can finally leave that dumb school and move on."_ Keeping this in mind, he picked up the pace a bit, rushing to room 201 to give the elderly Mr. Snow the jello cups he had demanded. Peeta had had just about enough of distributing get-well soon gifts, fluffing pillows, delivering meals, and organizing People magazines by the juiciest gossip to the old news. However, he only had to complete 6 more hours of community service hours for him to graduate from Mockingjay High School. Then he could finally head to Pearl University, a prestigious college that his mom worshipped the ground of. Peeta has never been keen on Pearl, but what with his oldest brother Rye dropping out of the local college to study poetry and his other older brother Wheat skipping out on college entirely to help their father run their family bakery, Peeta was his mother's last hope to having something to brag about at her weekly book club meetings.

Personally, Peeta had always wanted to take Wheat's place in their bakery. He knew his brothers would complain about working there, but Peeta loved it. The way his father would praise him for his work, regardless of the fact that he was 18 years old, was something Peeta would never admit he found great pleasure in. He enjoyed greeting the customers with a smile as warm as the cheese buns they would later purchase and watching the eyes of children who came in widen as they took in the pretty pastel frostings that coated cupcakes. However, that just wasn't in the cards for him.

As Peeta left Mr. Snow to grumble about how the jello spoons were plastic and not metal, the familiar sounds of sirens filled his ears. The sounds used to be alarming, but over time he had grown used to them. Looking up at the clock on the wall, he realized it was time for his lunch break. He headed to the staff room and picked up the lunch he had packed for himself, heading to the cafeteria for some well-deserved peace and quiet.

Plutarch L. Heavensbee Memorial Hospital was as depressing as it could get. The walls were a bland beige as if the architects wanted the hospital to look as sad as a majority of the patients felt. The light offered minimum brightness and the windows were tiny, though it wasn't as if the outside was any better looking. The lawn had brown patches of mud between each small cluster of olive green grass. Peeta vividly remembered when he was 9 and had cut his finger on a knife making dinner. His father had taken him to Heavensbee to get checked out, but even though he only needed two stitches, he had cried through the whole thing. Afterwards, when the pair was driving home and his father had asked him why he had cried so much, Peeta revealed it wasn't because of his injury, but because he was terrified of the hospital. It was indeed something to fear, especially at night. Peeta's father had chuckled lightly before pulling into their favorite ice cream shop to cheer his son up.

As the familiar taste of gooey cheese and butter filled his mouth, Peeta asked himself why he had picked the hospital to complete his volunteer hours at. He had hoped, when he had scrawled his name on the sign-up sheet, that he could help cheer up children patients or maybe make the hospital look a little happier. However, instead of making others feel better, this job was making him feel miserable. " _But,"_ he reminisced, " _As soon as this week is over, I'll be done with all my volunteer hours."_ He sighed and took another bite of his sandwich. Suddenly, he heard yelling from the lobby. It sounded like a woman, probably a frantic mother. Knowing he might be needed to calm her down, he packed up his sandwich and headed to the source of the noise.

As soon as he'd put away his lunch, he went to the lobby, where the woman was still yelling. What he saw took his breath away. The yelling belonged to a dangerously stunning woman. She had pale skin and dark brown hair, almost black. She was a bit short, and Peeta almost chuckled at the sight of her yelling at the tall doctor who was trying to reason with her. Her hair was braided over her shoulder, but he still saw the scorch marks on her shoulder that hid under her wispy strands of coal. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. At second glance, Peeta realized there was a lot of blood on her, but it wasn't hers. Aside from the marks on her arms, she seemed to be perfectly healthy.

Well, not mentally.

She was in a state of outright panic. One minute she was pleading with the doctor, and the next she was screaming vulgar phrases at him. A nurse tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she woman flinched and pulled away, seeming shocked by the physical contact. She continued to argue with the doctor until someone was pulled in on a gurney. A young woman, it seemed, with pale blond locks that had stains of red on them-blood. She was small and young, and her creamy white skin was covered in red marks. The marks were bloody and raw, piercing her skin and going deep into her body. On the marks were layers upon layers of soot and ash. The sight of the victim stunned the yelling woman. She ran to the gurney and stared down at the face of the young girl. She was noticeably larger than the blond girl; " _Perhaps sisters, or cousins"_ thought Peeta. The larger woman fell to her knees and clasped the hand of the young girl gently, so as not to hurt her wounds. Tears fell to the cold tiles of the hospital floor as she cried and stroked the face of the girl with one hand. Two nurses went to her and convinced her to stand, telling her that the woman was in very good hands. Reluctantly, she stood, suddenly quieted by the sight of the unconscious girl. She watched as the young girl was quickly rolled into the ER, then turned to the nurses and began arguing again. The nurses seemed quite tired of her as they tried to reason with the unreasonable. Peeta felt a pang of sympathy for them. He knew what it was like to have to deal with such difficult people. After all, he lived with his mother.

Peeta walked over to the three women and put a gentle hand on the shoulder of one of the nurses. "You can take a break, Madge. I'm done with my lunch anyway." She and the other nurse gave him grateful smiles, then they scurried away, heading towards the cafeteria. The woman stared at him like he was a hunter holding a gun, and she was a rabid animal. Up close, he could see a couple scratches on her face and soot on parts of her face. Her dark gray eyes stared him up and down, trying to determine if he would help her or not. Peeta smiled, trying to stay calm, while on the inside he was terrified to be talking to this intimidating women. He had never been one for confidence.

"Hello, my name is Peeta. If you want, I could go get you some water or a bandage for those marks," he said, gesturing to the angry red wounds on her arms. Her eyes narrowed and she clenched her teeth together. She didn't seem to want water; she wanted answers.

"What are they doing to her? Can I go in there? Will she be okay?"

'Whoa, slow down. She's in good hands, and the doctors will do their best-"

"Their best isn't good enough! She needs to be okay."

"Don't worry, it'll all be okay. To answer your questions, her wounds are probably being treated, no, you can't go in, and I can't promise anything. But don't worry, she's receiving the best medical care." The woman eyed the dirty ceilings and worn floors.

"The best of the best, I'm sure," She grumbled sarcastically. Peeta chuckled, and she looked up at him, surprised.

"Look, freaking out and yelling at doctors won't help anyone. Why don't you sit for a minute? I'll grab you a drink and I'll fix those burns." She looked down at the marks, oblivious to their existence. She nodded, and he rushed off to the water fountain, where he filled a small dixie cup with water. As he returned with a first-aid kit and her water, he found her sitting on a chair, tapping her foot anxiously against the floor. Despite this nervous action, she seemed to be much calmer and less aggressive. Obviously she was just a concerned family member or friend, but there was something in her earlier actions that had made him think the injured women was more than cousin. Her attitude earlier was so protective, so motherly. They were obviously very close. When she saw him, she stood, accepting the cup and taking a sip.

"Why can't I see Prim?" She asked. "She's my sister, she needs me." He gestured for her to extend her arm and she did so, her cool skin hitting Peeta's calloused fingers.

"Honestly, you'd be no use to her. They've put her on sleeping meds while they fix her burns. Just relax for a minute." As he stroked a damp washcloth up and down her arm, which had second-degree burns scattered across it, he allowed his pinkie finger to dangle over the cloth so that his finger hit her skin as he cleaned the wounds. Her creamy olive skin was addicting to touch. He found himself wanting to get acquainted with all of her skin, wondering if the skin on her arm was the same color as the skin on her back, on her thighs, on her breasts. She began to squirm under his constant touch, he quickly pulled himself back into reality and put the cloth down on his lap. He took a deep breath and gathered his composure. " _You've been around girls all your life and never been like this,"_ he scolded himself. " _Whenever Mom brings them home to play matchmaker, you can't wait to get rid of them."_ Feeling embarrassingly unprofessional, he busied himself in opening a bottle of ibuprofen and passing two small pills to her. He began to flush again as he found himself staring at the bobbing motion of her throat as she sipped her water. Peeta was willing to bet that his face was hotter than all of her burns. He turned away and squirted some Neosporin onto his finger, giving his face time to return to a normal hue. Turning back to face her, he ran his fingers along the burns, gently rubbing the gel on the affected areas of her arm. "What's your name?"

She looked up at him, wincing a bit as he applied pressure to her wounds. "Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

"Everdeen? Didn't your mom used to work here?" She nodded slowly. "She was a great doctor. My dad used to come in all the time for the burns he got from our oven-we have a bakery. She always sent him home feeling great." Katniss smiled a toothless smile; it was fake, only existing to cover up something.

"She would have liked to hear that." At Peeta's confused stare, she specified. "She passed away last summer. Drug overdose." Immediately Peeta's eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

They were suddenly both engulfed in silence. It was so terrible for Peeta to think that he could be talking and getting to know Katniss better, but he decided against doing that. After all, doing that only seemed to be adding salt to the wound. So instead, he stood up to return the First-Aid kit. When he returned, Katniss was biting on the end of a pen, staring at a piece of paper, her eyes darting across the paper. When he sat beside her, she spoke. "Medical form. They need to know about Prim's medical history." Peeta nodded.

"Well, if you don't need me anymore, I think I should get back to work." He said, rising and turning towards the front desk.

"Wait!" She said, quickly looking up at him. She held her head higher to meet his gaze, but he could tell her stamina was wavering. "Stay with me? Please? Just until I find out a little more about Prim. If you leave, I'll have nothing to think about besides her." Peeta didn't hesitate to sit back beside her and smile. She smiled too, a real, genuine smile.

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"So," Peeta began as he passed Katniss another cup of water. They were comfortably seated in the lobby, on a loveseat close to Prim's room. He left a bit of room between him and Katniss, still embarrassed about his earlier behavior when he was fixing her wounds. It was almost 2, and Peeta had already called his parents and told them that he would be staying a bit later than usual. "How old is Prim?" Peeta inquired. Katniss smiled.

"She's fourteen. She's only a freshman at Coin High School, but already has plans to attend Nightlock University and become a doctor. She's much more ambitious than I was." Peeta watched her as she spoke, noticing how her voice filled with pride when she spoke of her sister.

"And how old are you?", Peeta asked. Katniss shuffled in her chair, getting more settled in.

"18. I used to attend Mockingjay, but we moved after my mom's death, meaning Coin was our new district school." Peeta nodded, intrigued by her family's history, but not wanting to risk upsetting her with a bombardment of questions.

"Where are you planning on going to college?" Katniss's angry red hand reached for a bandage on her arm and began to pick it, letting it snap against her skin. "I'm not." She crossed her legs, and Peeta knew the topic was closed. "Well, are you hungry?" She shook her head curtly, then was betrayed by her stomach grumbling. Peeta smirked at her, then stood.

"Come on. The cafeteria isn't five star, but it won't make you sick. That would be a bit counterproductive for a hospital." Katniss looked at the room where Prim was being treated.

"What if they need me for something? I think I should just stay here."

"No offense, but you won't be much help if you're famished and tired. If they really need you, they'll get you." Katniss glanced at the room again. She finally rose and spoke.

"Lead the way."

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"I'm really sorry about your sister," said Peeta as he took a sip from his drink. He and Katniss had found a small table in the front of the cafeteria, close to the door in case Katniss was needed. Peeta had gotten himself a Mountain Dew, while Katniss was eating some warm soup. She looked up from her bowl.

"You should stop apologizing for things you didn't do," Katniss said bluntly. Peeta had observed that she wasn't really one for etiquette or manners, not that he was either. He just knew that if he said that to someone in such a frank tone, his mother would have his head. He liked the way she spoke freely, but not carelessly. She meant every word she said, but she didn't filter the things she said. Maybe he noticed this because his mother always seemed to speak carefully to Peeta, not telling him everything or changing the story slightly. Pure honesty was a luxury in the Mellark household.

"I'm not really apologizing because I did anything. I'm just sorry that you're sad." Peeta really did feel this way. He thought someone like Katniss, who had already been through pain with her mother's death, deserved to have happiness, deserved to smile. And smile she did when he said that.

"That's a nice way of looking at it." Quiet consumed their table once again. Katniss seemed to be the type of girl who enjoyed quiet or at least didn't feel uncomfortable with it. Peeta, on the other hand, was so used to noise at his house that this quiet was strange. " _Opposites attract_ ," he thought. " _Wait! Am I attracted to her?"_ Stupid question. Of course he was. He had been since she had walked in the door. But of course, there would be no romance between them. Her sister was in critical care, for Christ's sake! " _Have some morale, Peeta,"_ he thought to himself. His job was to comfort her, to get her through this tough time. But anything could happen in a hospital cafeteria.

"It was a fire," Katniss said, looking off towards the window. "That's why we're here. You know, the burns. She was in the building when it caught fire." Katniss took a pause, breathing deeply.

"You don't need to explain it to me. It's not my business."

"I want it to be your business," Katniss said, looking at him. She blushed a bit, ducking her head down and staring at the soup. "I want you to understand. I don't really know why, but I do." She avoided eye contact with him, stirring her soup. "I'm her legal guardian. She's the last of my family. Our dad died years ago." Quiet overcame them again. "My whole life has been dedicated to hers. I've worked so hard for her to be able to go to college, to become a doctor like she wanted. What if," Katniss looked at Peeta, her smoky gray eyes displaying her vulnerability, "What if it ends up being for nothing?" Peeta understood her point, and so he reached for her hand. It was calloused and rough, and Peeta covered it with his soft hand. She didn't flinch, didn't pull away, just maintained eye contact.

"It will never be for nothing. You're very lucky to have someone in your life that makes you hurt so badly." Katniss scoffed a bit.

"I'd rather not feel so bad. I don't see why pain is a gift."

"Because it means you have someone you love. Not everyone has the pleasure of experiencing true love." Katniss considered this for a moment. Slowly, she smiled, squeezing Peeta's hand. His insides turned to the hospital's disgusting jello cups.

"I guess so," she said to Peeta. He gulped, the idea of their hands touching finally registering with his brain. He pulled back, offering her a nervous smile. She smiled back, and they slowly returned to their meal in comfortable silence.

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As Peeta and Katniss headed back to their loveseat near Prim's room, Peeta took in how late it had gotten. He found himself losing track of time with Katniss, and so the clock on the hospital wall now read 4:30. If he was honest with himself, he would much rather be in Plutarch L. Heavensbee Memorial Hospital with Katniss than back at home. It wasn't even about the volunteer hours anymore. Peeta didn't think he could leave Katniss alone at the hospital without knowing about her sister's fate. Honestly, Peeta didn't even know what would happen to Prim. He wasn't a doctor and he was definitely not entitled to any information that Katniss was given. Still, he found himself drawn to the Everdeen sisters like a magnet. There was something about their relationship, their powerful love and dedication to each other, that made him a bit jealous. He didn't think he had that type of love for anyone. That's not to say he didn't love his family- he just felt sometimes that the love they spoonfed him was the type they thought he had to receive because he was family, and not because they actually loved him.

"Peeta, I'll be right back. I'm going to check if there's any news on Prim.", Katniss said, shaking him out of his thoughts. And good thing too- his thoughts seemed to be drifting in a dangerous direction. Suddenly, his phone dinged. His eyes quickly scanned the message on the home screen: _Be home before 5! It's meatloaf night and we're eating as a FAMILY_

"That's fine. Hey, I should probably be getting out of here soon. My mom wants me home for dinner.", Peeta said, cursing the demon that was his mother's meatloaf. That stupid meat-bread hybrid was forcing him to leave Katniss all alone.

"Oh," Katniss said, a bit surprised. "Right. Of course. Yeah. Um, thank you. For staying and talking. I really appreciate it." She fumbled over her words, fidgeting with the bandages on her arm as she spoke. She avoided eye contact, turning towards the front desk. "I'll see you around?" Her voice was unmistakably woven with strands of hope, and Peeta was wondering what she was: _Would there be a next time for them?_

"Yeah. Have a good night, Katniss." He bid her a formal, emotionless good night, then walked out of Heavensbee Memorial Hospital, wondering if he should get a diagnosis for this strange, painful feeling he had in his chest.

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Peeta stroked the smooth, silky fabric of his dark blue gown, lots of emotions running through his brain. Graduation day wasn't something Peeta was very enthusiastic about; after all, the college of his mother's dreams was definitely not the college of his dreams. Nonetheless, he would be headed off to Pearl University in a couple of months. Peeta's mother could not have been happier and had hung the school's flag from their front porch so everyone who passed by would know that her son was smart. She denied that was the reason, but Peeta knew that his education was just a source of pride for her. Sighing, he reached into his gown's pocket and pulled out a bunch of crumpled notecards. He quickly skimmed the chicken-scratch writing he had scribbled that morning. His farewell speech was absolute crap, but he didn't really care. Once the talking was over and his diploma was in his hand, he could move on from one depressing phase of his life to another. Out of the corner of his eye, Peeta saw his good friend Delly coming up to him. She wore a big grin on her face, her blue eyes electric with joy.

"Hey Peeta. You alright?", she asked, her smile shrinking a bit. Peeta decided to shake off his negative attitude for his friends. They didn't need his bad vibes on the happiest day of their lives.

"Yeah Delly, I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess." He said, smiling at her. She smiled back, then gave him a quick hug. She had always been an affectionate girl.

"Understandably. Don't worry, you'll do amazing. If you get nervous, just picture the audience naked." She giggled at her own joke. Peeta had to laugh.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind." Suddenly, he heard the booming voice of his principal introducing him. It was time. Delly gave him a thumbs up and a gentle shove out from behind the curtain. Peeta squinted into the crowd, but couldn't find his family. The lights were so bright he could hardly see the podium. He finally stumbled over to it, pulling his wrinkled cards out of his pocket. He smoothed them out, cleared his throat. Most of his speech was garbage he'd found off of Wikihow, but there was a certain passage he had written that was honest, straight from the heart.

"And so, my fellow Mockingjays, as we complete this chapter of our lives and begin the next ones, I'd like to let you know how grateful I am to have you in my life. How grateful I am to have something that makes today so hard. We will stay with each other, always." That was it. A couple seconds of silence passed and Peeta felt his face heat up. Was it too sappy? Too generic? Oh God, this wasn't how he wanted to end his high school experience. Suddenly, a deafening thunder of applause shook the auditorium. His fellow graduates were hollering and clapping, parents in the bleachers overcome by emotion. Grinning, he finally spotted his family. His father held a video recorder and was waving, while his mother smiled. Rye and Wheat were fighting over a bag of popcorn. Peeta looked to his right to see Delly crying, her mascara now thoroughly smudged under her eyes. As he headed off the stage, he motioned for Delly to wipe her eyes. She pulled out a mirror and quickly reapplied her mascara before mouthing a "Thank you" to Peeta.

The rest of the day felt like a dream. People congratulated Peeta and praised his speech, signing his yearbook and hugging him. His gown smelled of salt from all the tears, both his and others (mostly Delly's). Soon, his mother appeared over his shoulder.

"Peeta, let's go. We're all tired." She complained to him. Peeta internally groaned.

"Alright, you guys go ahead. I'll meet you at the car in a minute." She accepted this compromise and dragged Rye and Wheat in the direction of the parking lot. Peeta wrapped up his goodbyes, promised to text and call, sang the Mockingjay anthem with his friends one last time, then headed towards the exit. However, he turned around when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Katniss.

She looked a lot better than she had looked in the hospital. He hair was still in a braid, but she was much calmer, less tense. Her bandages were gone and a couple light pink scars were all that remained. She cleared her throat.

"Hi Peeta,", she said, tugging lightly on her braid. Peeta was in shock. He'd honestly thought that he would never see her again.

"Hi Katniss. Um...What are you doing here?", he asked, curious how she'd figured out his school and amazed she'd had the guts to show up.

"I just wanted to see you again," she quickly caught herself, "to thank you! Thank you for what you did at the hospital. It meant a lot." Her face flushed a bit.

"Oh, it's no big deal. How's Prim doing?" Peeta questioned. Katniss smiled.

"She's great. She'll be good as new in no time."

He gestured for her to walk with him and they headed out the door of Mockingjay. Once again, he felt consumed by silence. He spoke without thinking.

"You didn't have to come here and thank me, you know. It was my job to help you," He said to her. She stiffened up a bit.

"I knew that. I just wanted to make it clear how much it really meant to me to have you there with me. So I thought I'd come to say it. You've made it obvious I'm not wanted though." She said, turning away from him and walking away.

"Katniss, wait!" called Peeta, running up to meet her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her around. She stared up at him, her brows furrowed in anger. Overcome with emotion, Peeta pulled her to him, kissing her the way he'd wanted to since she'd walked into the hospital. As they pulled apart, Katniss stared at him in shock, then melted into him. He wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face into his gown. She reached a hand up and twirled it around the tassel of his cap. As she pulled apart and they walked side by side, Katniss admired his blue gown.

"I like you much better in your gown than in scrubs."

"Hey now, don't be hard on those scrubs. They're the reason we met."

 **Wow! That was one of my longer stories. I hope you enjoyed it. Until next time!**

 **-FlamingAshes**


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